


Leashed

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-11-18
Updated: 2001-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-01 05:26:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, I was playing a game of "what if?" What if Lex's trip to Smallville wasn't so much Lionel's idea? What if his work ethic left something to be desired? And so on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leashed

## Leashed

by Maude M.

<http://www.popslash.net>

* * *

The thing is, as powerless as Lex may have seemed in comparison to his father, he was never _forced_ to do anything. The trip to fertilizer purgatory? It was all about timing. An elaborate layering of wrong upon wrong, with the least offense being the most visible. And just sticky enough to keep dear old dad from getting wind of his greatest sins. 

Now, Lex would never admit to having manipulated his father into _forcing_ him out of town... 

... then again, Lex isn't much for confession. 

And he _could_ have told his father. It's not as if accidents don't happen every day in Metropolis. Maybe it would never have made it to court. And if necessary, juries can always be bought. But avoiding that mess entirely, biding his time amidst the farmboys... that is to say, cornfields, of Smallville seemed like the better of two situations. 

Pissing off Lionel in the process was an added bonus. 

And damned if things didn't work out exactly as he had planned. See, the time it took for Lex to arrive in Smallville and run the fertilizer division of Luthorcorp succinctly into the ground, ended up being just long enough for key witnesses to develop cash-induced amnesia, for several "corrupt" vice cops to be brought up on charges, and for any threats of filing charges to dissipate. 

It was a good plan. 

Worked so well that Lex finds himself back amongst friends (snicker) and back doing what he loves best. Swimming through the murk of Metropolis' seamier side. It's not to say that he *couldn't* run Dad's beloved crap-factory. It's just that work is so very much like... work. And living off of the trust fund while raising hell in the city? Definitely not work. 

The plan was a complete success. By the sixth month the plant was leaking money like a sieve, and the Great Luthor had to intervene to keep it from going under. Lex considered this a learning opportunity for his father. What kind of a businessman gave the reigns of an operation over to a 21-year-old? 

That being said, Lex is back where he started. In a dark corner of Zero, popping pills like candy, while the pouting brunette at the end of a black leather leash looks up at him deliberately. 

He's close, Lex thinks to himself. Damn close. If his lips were a bit redder, and if it was just a bit darker in here... well, it would be pitch black. But the kid is close. 

And he's trying to get back into the groove. Not physically, because, of course, with the right amount of money it takes only a matter of minutes to get behind the velvet rope and into the back room. And with Lex's reputation for generosity, leather clad boys were fighting amongst themselves to be at the end of his leash. 

No, it was more of a mental adjustment. He was _out_ of Smallville, but he couldn't seem to wrap his mind around it. That he could go on exactly as things had been before. That he had at least a few months left before Lionel felt compelled to help him "straighten up" again. That he won't see Kent again. 

And there's the sticky point. He chastises himself for even thinking of his name: if we continue to think about the boy, then we aren't _forgetting_ him, are we? 

He doesn't realize he's said this out loud, until he gets a quizzical look from the boy at the end of his leash. Young, brown eyes looking up at him with something that almost resembles sympathy. "Did I say that you could look up? No, I did not." 

Stupid, brown-eyed brat. He'd wanted hazel, but he got brown. There was a whole color spectrum between brown and hazel. And he realizes that he's said this out loud as well (looks like *somebody's* starting to feel their happy pills), but the boy has the good sense to continue to look down. "Get up. Let's go to the back." 

A slight nod. Lex stands and leads the boy to the back of the club. He gestures to a heavy man in a ridiculous blue suit, who opens the door into the back. The boy at the end of Lex's leash tries not to look excited, but fails. He's probably never been into this room, as it is reserved for only the wealthiest patrons. 

Lex is annoyed. Clark wouldn't want to be back here. Clark wouldn't let himself be lead around. Clark wouldn't even know that places like this exist. "Can't you be a little more..." Like Clark? "A little less..." Like you? "Excited?" 

"How would you rather I be?" 

Lex sighs, laying himself out on a couch. "Innocent." 

The kid is puzzled, and Lex can't blame him. By the time he was that age (eighteen? He hopes.) Lex was about as innocent as the Devil himself. But that's what Clark has. Innocence. And sincerity (another thing leash-boy is decidedly lacking). And even though this boy is in front of him, literally bound to his fingertips, his thoughts are miles and miles away, with a boy who would never understand any of this. Would never let him near enough to entertain the possibility. 

And Christ. Would Lex even know what to do if he did get close enough? What he wants? To see Clark at the end of his leash? To dress him up in naughty leather-goods and show off what a pretty little thing he found amongst the corn? To turn him into every bit the farm boy-slut that is the fodder of his fantasies? 

Or is that too much? Would it be enough for Clark to look at him the way he looks at the Lang girl-- full of hope, desire, undeserved worship? To watch Clark sleep in his own bed, to know what it looks like when he brushes the sand out of his eyes and blinks away the morning sunlight. 

Or does he want more? To take what might be his own custom-made redemption and revel in its ruination? 

"I have no idea." The boy at his feet sits, legs drawn to his chest, intently listening to every one of Lex's uttered thoughts. 

"I didn't say you could speak," Lex answers him, already pondering his next question. 

What to do now, that could possibly make Lionel angry enough to send him back to Smallville? He eyes leash-boy and licks his lips. 


End file.
